Howling
by flirtandflounce
Summary: REWRITE. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to wander off alone?" Damon wanted her because of her blood, he kept her for other reasons. Damon/OC/Tyler


Hello readers! It's been a while, hasn't it? New readers: you may have seen this story before. I've decided to rewrite my older story **Howl**, for many reasons. I was unhappy with my writing and the direction I had taken it. This story will be more or less the same, with some loose ends tied and what I'd like think is a little better character development (and writing!). Howl had about 15(?) chapters, and if you're interested in reading it, you still can. But I'll only be working on this version from here on out. I hope you enjoy! Also, I recommend listening to **O Death** by Jen Titus while reading for a nice little mood-setter.

-.-

_When God is gone and the Devil takes hold,_

_Who will have mercy on your soul?_

_O Death, O Death, O Death_

He had been watching her for days. It didn't necessarily start that way, he didn't search her out on choice. He stumbled upon her, really. While lurking was one of his favorite pastimes to distract himself for the constant aching in his chest, he didn't start out with those intentions. He had started surveying the town, most notably the local teenagers when he first saw _her_. A different her, a Katherine Pierce look-alike. He'd have caught his breath, stopped breathing, if it were even possible.

This girl was different, he was hunting her for sport. The complete opposite of the Katherine-clone. She was always around, in the background, quiet and observant. However, he knew better. No one was that introverted. She was thinking, watching them as he was watching her. A sick twist of fate, one that Damon found eerily intriguing. He loved a tragic story.

She fell to her knees, a soft thud and used her hands to balance herself. He noticed the small details about her; the way her honey colored hair cascaded down her face and the slight twitch of her hips as she landed. He also noticed that her shoulders shook, just barely as she subdued a sob. He could hear her catch her breath, fighting herself. Damon squatted in front of her, sliding his finger underneath her chin and lifting her face to look into his eyes. She shivered away from him, but he hushed her immediately. "It's okay," he cooed, allowing his eyes to scan over her face.

He'd seen her before, but never so close. This time he noticed the specks of green in her otherwise blue eyes and the soft pout of her pink lips. Her cheeks were rosy from fright. She was trembling, almost frantically, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

The girl tried to shake him away, back up. Damon's grip moved around her neck, tightening. She gasped, her hands raising to scratch at his. But it was no use, he was thousands of times stronger than the measly human girl in front of him. With barely a finger twitch Damon could have her dead. A sadistic smile curled across his face, "Now would you like to tell me your name?"

She made a soft choking sound before nodding. Damon's grip loosened considerably and pressed his lips together, "I'm waiting."

The girl struggled, falling backwards into the dirt. Her fringe fell over her eyes, shielding the haunting eyes from Damon. He reached forward just then without thinking, pushing it away from her face so he could look into her eyes. She caught her breath and Damon felt her heart stop. Just for a moment before it began to race again, pounding against her chest. His eyes followed the sound, lingering over the soft flush of her skin and the subdued cleavage visible underneath the peach colored sundress she wore. Damon wished to press her back against the ground and take her as she was. But he pushed away the primitive feeling and allowed a crooked smirk grow on his face.

As much as he'd like to take the credit of catching this prey, he couldn't. In fact, he had nothing to do with their meeting. She wandered to him all on her own. A sort of struck of fate, he thought. And fate was on his side.

Maybe she was just much too curious for her own good.

He forgot his quest for her name for a moment, "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to wander off alone?"

She squealed, backing up on her hands, sliding through the dirt. He heard the soft scratch of a branch against her bare calf. And then he smelt her blood.

It consumed him. Like a moth to a flame, Damon felt the pull of the red poison flowing through her veins. For that moment it was everything he wanted and everything he needed. The blood called him, begging him, taunting him for a taste. As it dripped down her creamy calf, falling into the dirt. Wasted.

Damon pulled himself back, struggling against the instinct he had to rip her throat out and devour the young woman in front of him. His eyes slowly returned to normal, and the fangs that had protruded snapped back into their rightful place. He watched her expression, utter terror. She was trembling, those cool pools of blue widened in shock.

Her blood. It was so sweet. So pure. So _virginal._ They way blood used to taste right after he was turned. So preservatives, no venom to her blood. Clean. It was like someone poured Lysol in her morning coffee.

Damon was once again intrigued, "What's your name, beautiful?"

"Alice," slipped from her mouth, angelically.

"Well Alice," he grinned, "this has just become _curiouser and curiouser_."

-.-

Reviewers get kisses!


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